


Now I Know How It Feels To Be God

by irtokarkki666



Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street (Movies 1984-1994)
Genre: BDSM, Blood, Dom/sub, F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Knife Play, Violence, dom reader, freddy gets wrecked, freddy is a brat, idk what to tag, nasty talking, smut incoming, the first chapters are just talking with no sex, violence kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 07:41:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26349532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irtokarkki666/pseuds/irtokarkki666
Summary: freddy tries to fuck around with the wrong lady (you) and soon regrets it since the lady is a full time dominatrix with a bad day and sleep deprivation and will absolutely fuck freddy UP
Relationships: Freddy Krueger/Reader
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Carach Angren's song "Franckensteina Strataemontanus", and some Dimmu Borgir easter eggs are well hidden in the text since I have a Dimmu brain worm, please show mercy on my english i am not native // Songs I used for writing this and setting myself into the mood: Blood Hunger Doctrine (Dimmu Borgir), The Twisted Nails of Faith (Cradle of Filth), Fight Fire with Fire (The Prodigy) Das Me (Brooke Candy), Sabbat Mater (Behemoth), Franckensteina Strataemontanus (Carach Angren) + a lot of Phosgore

PART ONE

It was another one of these nights when you get home from work absolutely done with everyone’s bullshit. You think it must be the fucking final sales that get people so dumb over boring clothes that they start to fight over some ripped jeans. You think that if there would not be security cameras, you would rip them up until their soft little bellies would look like the pants they had been fighting for.

You kicked the little table you had slammed your purse to and looked at it like it was guilty for everything. And maybe it was. Sitting in the wrong place, someone had clearly been in the house and shifted some objects slightly out of place.

Fucking Freddy again, you think. “I know you have been here!” you say, loudly to the silence surrounding everything like a chokehold. “Stop playing around, you absolute fool!”

There may have been a remnant of laughter in the air. Try to fucking play with me and I’ll show you what the Prime Time truly is made of. You didn’t know if he could hear thoughts or not. It did not matter. You would have said it to his face if he’d been in front of you.

Nothing. You click your tongue in disapproval. Fight the dumb work shirt off, throw it to the corner. Your name tag smiles at you, menacingly. Or it smiles at anyone who tries to turn your nights into nightmares, like a certain demon has tried to for the last two weeks. Is it a smile or a warning flash of teeth, fuck around and find out, bitch boy, the thought gives you a reason for a little smile.

LATER, DREAM REALITY

When you wake up, the room feels off. There is a metallic scent in the air. The floor is made of different coloured wood panels than it really is. You want to be sure, take out your pendulum, a necklace with a little pearl. It swings, around and around. And then it swings around, levitating. A trick everyone who has watched Inception knows, how to tell the dream reality and real reality apart.

You have on a little night dress, pitch black stressed velvet. It is sexy and a little bit menacing. There’s something on the corner of your eye, but it disappears when you turn to look at it. There’s a remnant of a presence here. The walls begin to drip blood and fill up with hand prints that turn into real hands trying to touch you, but you fire a row of death stare to them, and it stops.

“You fucking wank-stained, low-class dream fuck-upper! I know you are here so stop playing hide and seek. Unless you are scared of a woman in her nightdress from Agent motherfucking Provocateur.”

You give out a little smile, knowing fairly well that you look good in that outfit. No bra but a matching crimson knickers. Another hand forms up from the ceiling, drops down and starts crawling towards your foot like a lost spider. But there’s something Freddy does not know, and you pull a hammer out of nowhere, spit out a nail. Then you drop down, nail the hand down, force the nail through living tissue with furious clanks from the hammer. There are shrieks. It hurts. It’s fucking meant to hurt. You twist the nail around a little before giving it a final blow to keep it in place. The hand twitches and oozes out blood and tissue fluid.

It takes Freddy a couple of moments to understand what is going on.

“Bitch??? What the fuck!?”, he is screaming to your ear and holding his injured hand to his chest. “How in Hell are you doing that? This is the dream FUCKING realm!”

“Yeah? And I am a lucid fucking dreamer.”, you stare at him, and it’s a look.

“Oh.. time to change the plan then?”, he has healed his hand and smiles, flirt tingling in the eyes.

“Sure. But a word of warning, dear. You better drop that arrogance or I’ll flay it out of you”, you return the smile.

“Ooh.. aren’t you kinky..” he teases. He fucking teases, you, of all people. “Last time someone tried that, I fucked her up both alive and dead, lovely little night.”.

“Careful”, you keep smiling, return the flirt. “I might be more that you can handle”.

“Don’t think so.. this is my realm, after all. Maybe I’ll make you beg, put that dirty mouth to some good use”.

“Final warning, bitch boy..”, you can’t help but enjoy a little lick around your teeth, and you pull the already low neckline of your night dress even lower. There’s a hungry glimmer in his eyes now, cruel intent behind them. “Another hand down there, or.. tsk tsk.. wouldn’t want a nail through that.”

He laughs, looks at you like he had the winning hand on this. “You seem to like violence, how about I finger fuck you with these?” Freddy raises his gloved hand like a diva.

You give out a little amused giggle. He didn’t get the hint of backing off in time, so there’s only one way to deal with this. The cruel and violent, heavenly perverse way to deal with him.


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things slowly starting, posting all of my this summer's writings here at once lol

PART TWO

He shook his head a bit, he was having a knowing smirk on his face like he would own the situation. Which, of course, he didn’t.

“You can fucking try”, you say. It is no flirt anymore. It is pure intent, a warning and a trap all in one. To enhance the last word you slide your hand across your waist, play with the hem of the night dress, give him a good little flash of the four hundred dollar Agent Provocateur set. A lady in control must also dress like her ways in the world.

Freddy looks like he would lose control on instant, his breathing turns raspy and he grits his teeth, it’s a gasp for air. He is enjoying the view, thinking that he gives you a little leash, a little space to think being in control under his dominance.

Only if he knew, you think. Only if he knew… What a delicious feeling, knowing something that would turn the whole table around and flip it across the room. Freddy was playing Risk and you Chess, and you had given him the “check” warning already, and the most delicious part of all was that he did not know it.

He was already badly burnt and one more “Dracarys” would end him, the thought made your little giggle grow louder and more threatening. You weren’t exactly blonde and purple eyed, but right now you had the same amount of real control of the situation.

“What? I thought you wanted to gutsfuck me?” You let your nails run over your breast and give off some extra tease points with the no-bra dress code. You would let him close, almost thinking that he got you, and then gain control of all matters and show him what it meant to toy around with a dominatrix.

“Show me your tricks, dream man, or did you lose interest?” Saying this with one shoulder strap falling from place made something happen in him, a little sharp whine, ripped up from his lungs without a permit to do so.

I already have you and I haven’t even laid a finger on you, you think, giving him a sly wink. Tip-toeing to the bed’s edge, sitting down and leaning back, letting the perv night dress rise up another inch, giving him an absolute view of your crimson panties and the exited little stain down there. I already have you on the edge, you coy little motherfucker.

Freddy looks to the side, left and down, a quick decoy. You feel the iron harden up and around your gut. The excitement. The adrenaline. You have reached under the pillow and have the chain ready, the dream demon might be dumb and dick-driven, but he was also strong.

Time slows down as he attacks, a whirl of green and red, hat falling off to the floor, but there is something else waiting him on the impact than just a woman’s body. Swing and a clack, the chain closes down on his hands when he lands on top of you, one hand gets a grope of your breast, sharp twist of pain, but it lasts for a slip second only since you jerk the shackle in place and use his side swept attack movement on your own purpose.

You land on top of his lungs, the air forced out, and while he gags you crawl backwards, get his leg chained. He tries to kick and breathe but since he can effectively do only one, his knee doesn’t hit your side with the right force needed to kick you away. You elbow him between the legs, once, twice, thrice, his attempt of a cry comes out in a whine since his lungs are still empty from the impact of a full grown woman landing on top of them. A little fast acrobatics and he is completely locked up.

Your night dress has been torn in the fight, and your left breast is showing, hair messed around and a furious look in your eyes while you both take in deep breaths, you double check the demon so he won’t be getting anywhere, Freddy wails and mutters out a long chain of half breathed curses. His sweater has been torn from the shoulder, and you slap in the face as hard as you can. Your rings leave a nasty mark.

“You stupid, fucking fuck!” A punch in the face, making his nose start bleeding, another and his upper lip is split. “You tore my fucking night dress, my 300-dollar fucking night dress, dammit!” It’s a furious remark. He tries to get his hands between you, to defend himself with the claws. His eyes widen as he realizes to be trapped. They widen even more when he understands to be completely tied down. A cold, murderous glaze of fury, with a lustful undertone.

“And you will fucking pay..”. You work the blade gauntlet off his hand and try it on your own. You stretch out your fingers and let the light dance on the sharp edges. You lift your hand for another slap, this time with knives, and he acts on instinct. Shuts his eyes, takes a sharp breath, turns his head to the side to protect against a direct contact with his eyes, his body tenses up sharp under you. The body reacts almost same way to expectation of pain as it does to an orgasm, you realize. You don’t hit, but land the blades softly to curve around his temple. Drag them down to his jawline, Freddy opens his eyes, and for a little ecstatic moment there is genuine fear in them.

His eyes lock up on yours and he seems to understand the message in your widened pupils. He tries to fight his way free, growls and curses and groans, while you use the movement under you to rub a little more fire into your gut, let out a soft little moan just to annoy him even more.

He tries to spit out some word, but you slip the forefinger’s blade into his mouth and down his throat, gently to not cause damage. You could have him suffocate on his own blood while deepthroating a knife, and he understands it in a flash of terror in the eyes. He stops, every movement he tried to do earlier stops, you can feel his pulse vibrating up the blade, and judging by his heart rate, he is terrified.


End file.
